


One Month Since

by blevswrites



Series: Together [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Betty Cooper - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, aka b caves and writes a coda, betty x jughead, bughead - Freeform, i love this one, jughead jones - Freeform, lol sorry, one month since, some kissing too, team b and ten for the win, together, too many tags lol gotta blast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:02:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blevswrites/pseuds/blevswrites
Summary: Betty and Jughead take care of a sick toddler, Jughead copes with grief and learns to deal with labels.





	One Month Since

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I caved. I wrote a coda to a oneshot I posted a little bit ago called Together!
> 
> Mad props to my homegirl @itstenafterfour for giving this fic the extra push it needed. She’s the sweetest person and such an amazing writer! I could gush about her all day. Love you bitch. <3
> 
> Without further ado, I give you the first of many codas: One Month Since.

It had been just a month since Jellybean died, but to Jughead, it felt like an eternity had gone by. He hadn’t yet packed up her things, so it was as though her belonging carried her spirit and it lingered in the rooms, inescapable and unavoidable. He’d been dreading boxing them away, so he’d tried not to move things as much as he could get away with.

Aside from the fact that his heart still ached from the loss of his sister, the one he could always depend on for a funny one liner or a hug when life was going south. Now he had her three year old daugher in his sole custody and he had no idea what he was doing. He was also juggling the fact that he kissed his best friend that same night, and things hadn’t been the same since his lips were pressed against hers.

One of the first things Jughead did was get his niece out of FP’s trailer. It was definitely unsafe for a child, from the flimsy, paper thin walls to the dirty dishes and old beer bottles that became home to an array of horrid, repugnant odors. And the fact that it was basically a tin can were the most obvious reasons, aside from the neighborhood crowded with Serpents. The final straw was when the plumbing broke and flooded the entire tiny, barely there bathroom that the trailer only had one of, it was time to work out the moving process.

Jughead knew firsthand that the Southside Serpents weren’t imminently dangerous because he’d gotten caught up with them in high school. It started out as Jughead completing some of his father’s unfinished deeds during his stint in prison, but then it turned into something more. There was more going on than he knew and Jughead was well aware how over his head he was -- he needed to get out now before he drowned in it. So he cut all ties.

Jughead then knew it was time to face Jellybean’s old bedroom and pack up her stuff. This was the hardest part. He took three, medium sized cardboard boxes he’d found in Betty’s garage, but the emotion was overwhelming and he had burst out into tears, slowly lulling him to sleep. The blonde haired girl found him asleep on the cold concrete floor of the garage, face puffy with tears. Betty had offered to help him out with it but he had quickly collected himself and politely declined her offer. Jughead knew this was something he needed to face alone. It was “one of the steps on the road to acceptance”, as he had learned from a pamphlet they gave out at social services. But he didn’t want to accept that she was gone. Denial was his only way to deflect the emotional scarring from all sides. But he needed to move Stevie out of there and he had to do it soon, so he took a deep breath and walked into the room anyway.

He took down the Paramore and Evanescence posters that had hastily been taped onto the peeling purple wall above her twin bed. He rolled them gingerly, wrapping an elastic over each and placed them carefully into the box and then moved on to the few framed pictures on top of her plastic organizer of a dresser. One was of Stevie when she was born, with jet black hair and bright eyes, ready to face the world. The other was of Jelly and Jughead when they were children, right outside of the drive in movie theater that once stood on the outskirts of Riverdale. It was one of the places that they frequented as kids right up until Jellybean and Mom left. When they tore it down Jughead’s sophomore year, it felt as if a piece of his heart had been taken right out of his chest. He owned a copy of that picture as well, but it’d been since misplaced when he went through a phase of being quite literally homeless.

Jughead then moved on to the little clothes that Jelly possessed. They mainly consisted of flimsy crop tops and black fishnets, but Jughead could still imagine her wearing them. He saw her in her first year of college wearing her favorite pair of deep purple shorts with fishnets and black combat boots, effortlessly fitting in and radiating a sense of self confidence he’d never had for himself. He remembered how just a couple of months ago she wore the “S” crop top he gave her for her most recent birthday to remind her of him.

The tears started to flow when he opened the excuse of a closet she had and saw the one thing in it- her high school graduation dress. Jughead had absolutely no sense of fashion but knew it was beautiful. It was black with thick straps and had tiny, white daisies with yellow centers embroidered on the hem. Jughead knew how proud his sister was of herself that day and he was lucky enough to be there in the audience, cheering for her when she walked across the stage. He carefully packed that dress away and made a mental note to give it to Stevie when the time came. He didn’t know how exactly to pack a dress, so Jughead resolved he’d ask Betty later. Stevie deserved that dress, and he knew for a damn fact (despite not being explicitly stated,) that it’s what Jellybean would have wanted.

That next day, he called Betty and she drove over with her light blue pickup truck from 1995 and hauled the few boxes of Stevie and Jelly’s belongings into the truck bed. Stevie sat between them singing the ABC’s out of order as they drove away from the decrepit, dilapidated trailer Jughead once called home. It felt like the end of an era, and Jughead was still desperately trying to ride on its coattails instead of letting it pass him by. He wasn’t ready for this to be over.

It was certainly bittersweet, but with time Jughead realized it was a move he had not once regretted. He brought Stevie back to his apartment in Riverdale and unpacked her few belongings into the one bedroom he had. He moved out onto the futon, much to Betty’s protest, because she was concerned about his own sleep and well being. He was more than okay with it though. As long as Stevie was happy. He got used to waking in the middle of the night to check on the young girl, who’d cry at odd hours for reasons still unknown.

He liked to believe she was happy, or at least content with her new life. She was still just as bubbly and positive as she was before. Jughead had enrolled her in a local daycare run by one of Betty’s high school friends, Ethel, and she always came back with a new fun fact or ramble for Jughead to laugh about. He always found solace in the moments he was cuddled up with her right before bed in her favorite fluffy, light blue blanket with bright yellow rubber ducks all over it, when Stevie would sing him twinkle twinkle little star. She’d sing until her eyes became heavy-lidded and she struggled to keep them open, and then she would give up mid verse and snuggle into Jughead’s broad chest. Sometimes it stunned him that even though she was Jellybean’s little girl, she carried so much of her mom in her.  
But now, Jughead Jones was faced with a new struggle to which he was unfamiliar. Stevie had caught the flu at daycare and was sneezing, coughing, and throwing up all over the apartment. His entire tiny place above the insurance agency looked like a war zone. There were blankets, towels, and toys strewn all over the floor and the furniture. There were Mickey Mouse Clubhouse reruns constantly playing on his small TV, and Stevie would not fall asleep no matter what Jughead did. He’d keep himself awake at night and drown his tiredness in coffee, prying his eyes open before running to grab another barf bag.

Jughead held her in his arms while she cried and sweat through yet another pair of pajamas. He didn’t blame her for being sad, she was tired and ridiculously sick, and he felt like crying all along with her. He was exhausted and running on empty, not to mention clueless. WebMD hadn’t taught him much and he didn’t know what to do, so he called the one person who did. She, of course, picked up on the first ring.

“Juggie? Why are you calling me at one in the morning? Is everything okay?” The sound of Betty’s voice immediately comforted him, but he heard her voice drag with a yawn and he felt a pang of guilt. 

He knew Betty always told him to call whenever he needed, especially given the events of the last month, but he couldn’t help but feel horrible about it. He may be in a tough spot but that didn’t feel like permission to take advantage of her. He was aware it was just in her nature to care about everyone in her life, especially Jughead. She’d stuck with him through all the problems and trauma he’d faced in high school and was always there for a phone call or a shoulder to cry on. Betty made sure to remind him that offer was still on the table, especially after JB died. But, Jughead tried not to call very often with his own problems. She had a busy life of her own and Jughead didn’t want to add the many burdens of his life to hers.

“Everything’s fine, but Stevie won’t stop crying and the Benadryl isn’t helping her and she’s sweat through six pairs of pajamas tonight alone and she won’t drink any water-” Jughead’s cries for help were interrupted by the angelic sound of Betty’s voice and some rustling in the background.

“Everything is not fine. I’ll be over in twenty. See you soon, Jug.” Jughead hung up the phone and couldn’t help but smile. Things between him and Betty have been different lately (a good different, he reminded himself,) but they still never got the chance to define things. He knew Betty understood the circumstances but he still felt guilty that he hasn’t made any immediate moves. They’ve kissed a few times since that night and they’ve been very nice and he was pretty sure he’d never get sick of the taste of vanilla. 

Jughead cradled Stevie into her chest in an attempt to both calm her down and muffle her hysterical sobs, which were bringing on an odd ringing in his ears.  
“Shhh, Steves, it’s okay. Betty’s coming.” He whispered into her mangled curls.  
Stevie looked up at him with her bright green eyes red rimmed from crying and his heart broke a little bit. It physically hurt him to see her this sick.

“Bebby?” Stevie rasped, causing Jughead to laugh a little at the nickname she had lovingly given Betty when she first began to talk. 

Jughead could remember that day like it was yesterday. Jughead had taken Jelly, Stevie, and Betty out on a Pop’s date on a Friday night. Stevie had been rambling to herself over the din of laughter of the old friends about something Jelly said, when he mentioned Betty’s name. Stevie had gone silent and looked straight at her, and whispered, “Bebby?” He remembered how Betty had swept Stevie up into her lap and showered her with kisses at her new favorite nickname. It made his heart happy. He didn’t want to make Betty into a mother figure for Stevie in any way or form, but the blissful domesticity made his heart happy and Jughead couldn’t help but think that Betty would be a great mom someday.

The silence was short lived as Stevie’s cries were kickstarted for another round with a knock at the door. Jughead went and opened the door with Stevie still in his arms, and drank in the sight of Betty. 

She was still in her pajamas which consisted of black sweatpants and a black tee shirt that said “VIXENS” in pink glitter across the bust, with a pair of ratty sneakers on. Her hair was swept up into a messy bun and she looked tired, but beautiful. Her skin still glowed and her eyes still sparkled with what he assumed were remnants of the day’s makeup, but it was that stupid shirt and how inconveniently placed the writing was that kept catching his eye. Jughead stifled back a laugh at her shirt as she rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Blame Cheryl, not me.” She said. 

The two barely got a chance to speak before Betty suddenly took note of Stevie and cooed, setting the two grocery bags Jughead hadn’t even realized she was carrying on the threshold. She stepped inside and rocked Stevie towards her room, speaking to her in soft tones and attempting to calm her down. Jughead always admired the special touch Betty had with kids. She was always the one at family gatherings that was responsible for herding the cousins and entertaining them with games of tag or Simon Says. He knew she’d much rather spend time with the kids than talk about work and her life with the adults.

Jughead took the purple reusable bags from the only grocery store in Riverdale and set them down on the small table in the kitchen, unpacking the contents. He found the ingredients for chicken noodle soup, tissues, and a plethora of different children’s cold and flu meds. He smiled at the thought of Betty walking around the 24-hour grocery store in her glittery pink tee shirt at one thirty in the morning, talking to the pharmacist about which medications were best, and buying all of the ones they recommended. 

He suddenly noticed a change in the apartment, a blissful peace washing over his tense, exhausted body. For the first time in hours, he let his shoulders drop, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

Silence. 

Jughead sighed with contentment and dragged himself over to the couch, a stale cup of coffee in hand. His arms felt a lot less heavy without the weight of a 3 year old child. He curled up with a blanket Betty had bought him when he first moved in after college and waited for her to come out of Stevie’s room. The blanket was obviously durable, having held up all these years. It was knit with fluffy white yarn and frilly tassels on the end. He remembered how when Betty gave it to him, she was worried he’d think it was too girly (Jughead was in no way one to adhere to old constructs of gendered blankets, of all things,) so he didn’t even care. It was soft and it reminded him of her, so it was a win in Jughead’s book.

A couple minutes after Stevie had stopped crying, Betty emerged from her room, shutting the door softly behind her before taking a seat uncomfortably far from him. Jughead extended his arm to signal for her to come closer, and she shuffled over and cocooned herself into his side, cuddling up next to Jughead on the small couch. He lifted his arm up so she could crawl under and rest her head on his chest. It was a simple gesture but Jughead loved all of the little touches he received from Betty, whether it be brushing shoulders or holding hands. He pulled her as close as he possibly could and sighed again, letting the warmth of her body seep into his. 

“How’d you get her to stop?” Jughead asked, not daring to speak above a whisper. The soft sound of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse drowned out his voice. He leaned forward and retrieved the remote off the coffee table before clicking the off button and leaning back with Betty. Talk about horrible TV shows. For a film nerd, watching kids shows was the ultimate low for Jughead. He couldn’t stand all of the fluff and happiness. But Stevie liked it, and lately his life had revolved around whatever makes Stevie happy.

“I sang to her.” Betty matched his whisper, her soft voice sending shivers down his spine. He would’ve kissed her in that moment but he was too tired to move. He barely had the energy to keep his eyes open. He felt them cloud over with the temptation of sleep and almost gave into that sense of exhaustion, the feeling of his body screaming for a break, slowly creeping through him. His senses calmed down as the smell of faint perfume and the brush of Betty’s hands on his cheeks relaxed him to the point of sleep…

He opened his eyes only a few minutes later and saw the beautiful face of Betty looking back at him. Her bright green eyes were focused on his as she drew faint shapes on his cheeks with her dainty fingers. She smiled up at him and Jughead couldn’t take it anymore. He brushed his chapped lips against her soft ones, a feat that took all his energy before fully kissing her. Betty’s placed the palms of her hands on Jughead’s cheeks and pulled him closer to her. The undeniable electric current buzzing between them sent a jolt pulsing through Jughead’s veins, waking him up. He kissed her harder, emitting a small gasp from Betty which only fueled the electric current between them. Every touch, every gaze, every sound was a spark that only made the current stronger.

Jughead regrettably pulled away and placed his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavy. Jughead relished in the high that was Betty Cooper before opening his mouth. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been a shit boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ flowed so easily out of his mouth that he didn’t even realize what he’d said. 

Boyfriend. 

Of course Jughead was more than okay with him being her boyfriend, but he didn’t know how Betty would react. Shit, this felt like high school all over again. The overwhelming butterflies in his stomach and knot in his throat tightened, but all he did was give her a weak smile, one he hoped would conceal his nervousness at the word.

To his luck, Betty was unfazed. 

“Jug, stop it. You haven’t been a shitty boyfriend in the slightest bit. You’re dealing with so much right now. It’s completely unfair to you to put that extra responsibility on yourself.” She was back to stroking her cheek which was, quite possibly his new favorite thing Betty Cooper did. Her gentle touch calmed every questioning nerve in his body. 

“You’re doing just fine.” She whispered, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Betty nestled right back into him and started to draw circles on his chest, her blonde hair tickling his chin.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m doing it, you know?” Jughead said in a shaky voice. Betty let him talk, continuing to draw circles on his chest to calm him. “I feel like I’m finally getting the hang of things. But then things like this happen, when my tiny, innocent niece who still doesn’t know what to call me gets sick and I feel like I’m failing all over again.” Jughead felt the tears spring out of his eyes and in his tired haze, he didn’t even care. He was tired of crying to himself in the shower and watching his tears mix with the steaming water. It’s healthy to “let it out,” right? 

“I can’t fail her, Betty. She doesn’t deserve that.” Betty was sitting up now, her hands cupping his face and wiping the tears away with her thumbs, not daring to break eye contact. He didn’t know who he was talking about now, Jellybean or Stevie.

“I miss her more everyday. I feel like one of these sleepless nights I’m just going to fall apart.” Jughead’s breath came out a little shakier than normal. His back began to heave with small sobs at first, and then big, painful ones. He had never cried so hard, not even when Jellybean died. They were breathless, wet, angry cries that left him gasping for air. Betty pulled him in for a hug and he burrowed his face into the crook of her neck. She whispered soft, “Aw, Juggie…”s into his hair until the tears eased up. Jughead was reminded a lot of a rainy night one month ago.

Jughead rested his forehead against Betty’s and he let her warmth calm his breathing. The tiredness was back, seeping into his bones and clouding his brain. He tried not to let it show as Betty started to speak.

“Jughead, listen to me. You are not failing either of them, Jelly or Stevie. You are going through hell and you are so strong for her. I honestly don’t know how you do it. It is more than okay to miss her and grieve for her. You deserve that much.” Betty whispered, her hands never leaving his cheeks.

“Let me give you the phone number of my therapist. Maybe you should see someone, Jug. Someone to talk to other than your girlfriend. Someone who knows how to help you.”  
“But you are helping, Betty, you did all of this for me--”

She shushed him gently. 

“No, not that kind of help. Someone who can help you with how you’re feeling, about Jellybean and Stevie. You’re bottling a lot of feelings and I promise, this will help.” Betty said sheepishly. Jughead nodded, closing his eyes with a sigh. It definitely couldn’t hurt to talk to someone about his messed up, broken life, even if it was hard. He was just so sick and tired of feeling this way, he’d try anything to help ease the pain.

“Betts, this is going to sound very cheesy, so just promise me you’ll hear the sentiment behind it, okay?” Jughead croaked, Betty laughing in response. 

Jughead didn’t think he’d ever get tired of her laugh. It was one of the only things that could lift him out of his darkness throughout his entire life. When they were kids, riding their bikes away from the trailer his parents were fighting in, and Betty would laugh at one of his sardonic jokes. Or when they were teenagers on the banks of Sweetwater in the sweltering summer heat, and Betty would let out her high pitched laugh as the feeling of the cold water in between her toes made her squirm.

“I’m so happy you’re my girlfriend.” Jughead winced immediately after those words came out of his mouth, only garnering a harder laugh from Betty. 

“I’m even happier you’re my boyfriend,” She whispered, kissing him again. Their lips clashed, reigniting the spark that was ever presently humming between them.

Jughead Jones had never been anybody’s “boyfriend” before, unless someone, for some reason counted the lame excuse of a relationship he had with some girl in college. They hooked up maybe three times and she called him her boyfriend once. He never used that term of endearment back, thinking that it was reserved for the most meaningful relationships. 

But this time there were no doubts. Words formed effortlessly when he was looking at her. Jughead definitely knew this relationship meant a hell of a lot to him. Besides, he could definitely get used to being Betty Cooper’s boyfriend. It’s only something he had dreamed of since they were seven. Jughead felt Betty’s small frame rise and fall, curled up next to his, softly lulling him to sleep.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you loved reading this as much as Ten and I did writing it! (aka a lot)
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated <3
> 
> Check me out on Tumblr too! I love making new friends: @juggyandbetty
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> -B


End file.
